Lone Star Mountain i asked your name, you asked the time

Eleuthera’s curious gaze suddenly became heavy and deadened when she learned that the secrets of the volcanos were for foxs’ ears only. Of course something as cool as fire spilling from beneath the earth wasn’t for her — wolves were so boring, while almost every other animal had something cooler than her. Deer could run full-speed for miles and miles and miles and never stop, birds drifted weightlessly upon the winds and the fish breathed water. Even foxes were made from volcanoes and breathed fire! Wolves, however, just sucked. “Oh,” she muttered, suddenly downtrodden.

— then the other girl said something so utterly inane that it re-inspired the prior moment’s volatile annoyance within her body and soul; mind and gut. Couldn’t she see that Leu was talking to the fox and having a fucking conversation? The Todd did not like her suggestion either and made a strong rebuttal regarding this ancestry and common family lines — if they were truly cousins, then Eleuthera couldn’t understand why The Todd couldn’t tell her the fiery secrets of the volcano — but she politely waited for the incensed fox to finish anyways, because that’s what goddamn ladies did. Then she added her two-cents. 

“Ummmm,” she questioned without words. For the first time since their meeting, Eleuthera turned to fully face the duo of strange-strange-scented juveniles and she sneered, feeling the words simmer and sizzle on the tip of her tongue. “Isn’t there something else you could eat?” the lilac kitten said bitterly. Then she waited a moment and punctuated her part of the repartee with a huff and a “— Not like you need it.—” spat out of the side of her mouth, like angelica from the rugrats. She wasn’t sure why she said the last thing, as the girl was actually trim and quite lovely with all of her spots. But the stranger was threatening to take her new plaything, so Eleuthera's intent were to hurt. So hurt she shall.